


Let Me Hold Both Your Hands (in the holes of my sweater)

by balancingprecariouslyontheedge



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Idk Liam's in it too, M/M, and niall and louis are mentioned, for like two seconds, just fluff, part of the zensquad valentine fic explosion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 21:46:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3356423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balancingprecariouslyontheedge/pseuds/balancingprecariouslyontheedge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*This is my contribution to the zensquad valentine fic explosion.*</p><p>Zayn's cold. A stranger named Harry has a coat. Fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Hold Both Your Hands (in the holes of my sweater)

**Author's Note:**

> For the zensquad, aka my wifey Ellie, the Batman to my robin Tori, Floor who should be sleeping, sweet Sarah who's done with our shit, and Rue who's a special flower(and also the angel who gave me this prompt bless rue everyone bless rue).

Rubbing up and down his waif arms furiously, Zayn’s tried to fend off the chill that settled within his very bones. He wished desperately that he’d listened to Liam earlier, when the puppy-eyed boy wouldn’t budge from in front of the door until he gotten his coat.  
“But Leeyum,” He’d whined, eyes darting to his watch frantically. “I’ll miss the bus and then I’ll have to walk to class and then a coat won’t do much good because I’ll still be stuck in the cold and I’ll get hypothermia and maybe I’ll die and then my death will be on you conscience and you’d have to live with the fact that—“  
“Okay, okay,” Liam had cut off his rapid-fire rant exasperatedly, stepping aside from the door. “Just go quickly. You know the cold gets you much faster than it gets any of us.” Zayn glared up at his taller roommate as he always did when someone made fun of his undeniably small size.  
“Fuck off,” Liam had laughed and ruffled his hair.  
“Get to class,”  
Zayn had shot off like a rocket, skidding and stumbling down the icy sidewalk as he raced towards the bus stop, determined not to miss his class.  
But, as luck would have it, he slid to a stop at the bus stop only to be met with irritated faces of those who usually rode the bus with him.  
And now, here he was, pushing his glasses farther up his nose and hugging his bag to his chest, confusedly glancing around. He cautiously approached the nearest person.  
“Excuse me?” Zayn asked timidly, “What’s going on?”  
The stranger turned to face him, and Zayn was immediately floored by perhaps the most beautiful emerald eyes that looked straight out of a Disney movie, coupled with the most endearing smile and dimples that sent his heart into a frenzy.  
“The bus is running late because of the weather.” And oh, oh that voice. That fucking voice, with its roughness characterized by something more smooth that Zayn couldn’t even begin to describe, that voice would dance through his dreams for weeks, no months to come because there was no sound that could possibly be more beautiful.  
“-ook cold,” Shaking himself out of his mesmerized daze, Zayn looked up at this breathtaking stranger with wide eyes with his nose scrunched in confusion.  
“What?” The laugh the followed nearly sent him into cardiac arrest, chasing away some of the bothersome chill that was determined to turn him to ice. Mirth flickering in his green eyes, the stranger said,  
“I said you look cold. Would you like to borrow my jacket?” And Zayn couldn’t bear the thought of this gorgeous person in front of him risking his comfort for Zayn, so no matter how warm and invited the stranger’s coat looked, Zayn shook his head vehemently, sending his glasses askew.  
“Oh no, no I’m fine. I’m okay. Not cold at all. Thank you, though,” He winced as his words tumbled out in an unattractive, awkward heap. He went to set his glasses straight to save himself from further embarrassment, only to find the stranger’s gloved hand had already done it for him.  
“You’re so cute,” The red that colored his cheeks now most certainly had nothing to do with the cold as Zayn looked at the ground bashfully. “I’m Harry,”  
“Zayn,” Zayn said, glancing up. “Er, that’s my name. Zayn,” And though his awkwardness and lack of ability to string together coherent thoughts was embarrassing, it was all worth it just to her the deep, melodic laugh the rumbled from Harry’s chest.  
“Zayn’s a pretty name. A pretty name to match an even prettier face.” There was no way in hell Zayn could blame his blush on the cold, not when Harry kept talking to him in a manner that Zayn refused to call flirtatious, because who in their right mind would flirt with him?  
“Well Zayn, you’re sure you don’t want to use my jacket?” Harry asked, and again, Zayn was hit with a severe lack of ability to answer because Harry was looking him straight in the eye and eyes weren’t supposed sparkle in real life but Harry’s most certainly did. But, Zayn refused to let those alluring orbs catch him off guard again, so he answered steadily this time.  
“I’m alright, really. But thanks,” And obviously it was that exact moment that the wind chose to pick up, blowing a flurry of small snowflakes that normally would’ve entranced Zayn and his affinity for pretty thing, except now they brought the absolutely frigid air with, wracking his delicate frame with a harsh shiver.  
“Sit,” Harry ordered more than anything else, gesturing to the space on the bench next to him. Zayn had no choice but to obey every silky word that came of Harry’s mouth, so he obliged, shivering yet again as the iciness of the bench seeped through his jeans and skin and nipped at his bones.  
So caught up in his struggle not to freeze to death, Harry nearly slipped from his mind until he poked his arm.  
“Take it and wear it,” He commanded waving his thick overcoat in front of Zayn’s face. “You need it a lot more than I do,” Harry gestured at the several layers of clothing he’d been wearing beneath his coat. By this point, Zayn was shaking too much to respond, so Harry gently helped him maneuver into the coat that was much to big with him, treating him as though he was made of fine chine.  
“Th-thank y-y-you,” Zayn murmured through chattering teeth, pulling the huge coat snug around his body and sighing in relief as its warmth slowly defrosted his freezing body. Harry shook his head, his long, dark curls bouncing as he did.  
“It’s nothing. Can’t have a pretty thing like you freezing, now can we?” And that just wasn’t fucking fair. Harry had to be aware of the magnitude of the effect that his words had on him. They rendered him, a bloody English major, useless and at a loss for words.  
Seeing that Zayn wasn’t about to speak, Harry smiled, showing off dimples deeper than Mariana’s Trench and slung an arm around his shoulders.  
“Y’know, I have this room mate. Niall’s his name. We had this running joke that absolutely nothing could possibly be cuter than him, because, at least in terms of looks, Niall’s the most adorable person ever. But that’s only if you count out the excessive swearing, drinking, and the fact that I think he’s been sleeping with my other room mate, Louis,” Zayn couldn’t help but let loose a giggle at that. Harry gave him a look that could only be described as fond.  
“And that right there is the reason I’m telling you this. I used to think that nothing could be cuter than Niall, but now that I’ve met you, I’m seriously reconsidering everything.” 

Well shit. 

Zayn was a puddle on the floor. Nothing more than a blushing puddle on the floor.

Before he could even attempt to answer, the bus finally pulled up, eliciting relieved sighs from those around him as they pushed and shoved to be the first ones onto the bus and out of the cold.  
“C’mon then,” Harry prompted, pulling Zayn to his feet and grabbing his hand when the smaller boy nearly pitched forward onto the ground. Harry herded him onto the bus, shielding him from other passengers who fought their way out of the biting cold.  
And honestly, Zayn shouldn’t have been surprised when Harry plopped down in the seat next to him, shaking the snow from his messy hair and Zayn was so endeared by it he could have cooed.  
Resigning himself to his fate of sitting next to this unbelievably beautiful boy, Zayn burrowed deeper in his borrowed coat, relishing the warmth and the strong scent of pine.  
“You look like a turtle in its shell,” Harry deadpanned, and Zayn laughed, long and loud because the world needed more people like Harry.  
Conversation flowed as though Zayn had known Harry his entire life, and the green eyed boy listen attentively to every word the came from Zayn’s mouth about everything, from his sister to his major. In return, Harry made him laugh so hard tears welled in his eyes, all the while providing stories about his own life.  
Ten minutes later, Zayn’s stomach dropped with the disappointing realization that the bus was pulling into his stop.  
“I get out here,” Zayn sighed sadly, slinging his bag over his shoulder.  
Harry quickly dug through his own bag, whipping out a black sharpie and handing it to Zayn.  
“Would you mind giving me your number?” And who was Zayn to say no to that? He penned down each number onto Harry’s endearing large hand with careful precision, taking painstaking care not to mess up a single digit. As he capped the sharpie and handed it back, Harry said  
“I promise I’ll find the stupidest excuse to call you as soon as possible. It’s been lovely talking to you, Zayn,” The blush previously coloring Zayn’s cheeks returned with full force.  
Just as he was about to stand up, he remembered Harry’s coat.  
“Oh, wait. You probably want this back,” Shrugging off the coat, Zayn already missed the overwhelming feeling of HarryHarryHarry that had overcome his senses with it on.  
“Keep it,” Harry said with a warm smile, “It’ll be my stupid excuse to call you.”

And if Zayn didn’t part from the coat for a single moment, well, he needed a stupid excuse to answer the phone.


End file.
